


elle connaît les adieux

by Mattition



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Bard Fjord, Episode: c02e097 The Fancy and the Fooled, M/M, Minor Caduceus Clay/Fjord, Nonbinary Mollymauk Tealeaf, Yasha's not in this one, but she's mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25836799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mattition/pseuds/Mattition
Summary: “Right, so.” Starts Molly, “We ended up in Rexxentrum on a job and ran into Ikithon at some enchanter’s shop. He was…very interested in our friend. All of us, I think, actually, but mostly our friend."“It’s my fault,” Fjord says quietly, “He took her, is the short of it. We’re going to get her back and we’re going to kill him.”There is a resounding silence that contends with the ringing in Caleb’s ears.“What makes you think you can kill him?” Beau asks derisively. Fjord makes a considering face and waves a hand.“Or die trying,” he amends.
Relationships: Fjord/Mollymauk Tealeaf
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	elle connaît les adieux

**Author's Note:**

> Fact about me: almost everything I write turns into a study in secret keeping because Human Interaction is a Mystery
> 
> I love warlocks because Mask of Many Faces is *chef's kiss* I wanted to see what Fjord could do with it and this is what happened. 
> 
> Title is from La Lavande by Pomme which... has a weird vibe for this fic but also is a big vibe for Molly
> 
> (I ramble more in the end notes bc I love this universe but will prolly not write more in it bc Plot is my enemy)

When Cad casts true seeing on her, Beau spots two people other than Essek who are in disguise. He talks her down a bit, and she watches them for a little while, trying to figure out their game. Essek is trying his best to blend into the wallpaper, and Nott and Jester are on him anyway, so she focuses on the dragonborn and the half-orc.  
The dragonborn guy is just hanging out and shoving hors d’oeuvres in his face, so Beau decides that he’s not that big a threat. Maybe people in the Menagerie Coast aren’t accepting of non-human types, just like in the Empire.  
She’s more worried about the half-orc guy though.  
The truesight is a truly trippy experience because she can see through the illusions, but she can also see what the illusion looks like. The half-orc is using disguise self like he doesn’t need to save up magical power, and it’s kind of freaky. Beau doesn’t know a lot about magic, but she’s pretty sure that disguise spells are supposed to be pretty taxing. This guy is switching faces every few minutes, flitting across the ballroom talking to people, smiling the whole while. 

As she watches him, though, she notices him returning to a lavishly dressed purple tiefling repeatedly. When he talks to them, he’s disguised as a handsome dark-skinned human man dressed in the formal wear of a high-ranking officer in the Righteous Brand. He confers with the tiefling for a while, allows them a kiss on the cheek, and switches faces again. This time, he is a half-elven man in an elegant all-black tuxedo. He shares a grin with the tiefling and gracefully makes his way over to Essek on the opposite wall. Beau, suddenly anxious for her friend, even if he is a traitor, grabs Caleb

“That guy in the black tuxedo is some sort of grifter,” She says urgently. “Make sure N-Veth has ears on him!”

“Ja, of course,” Caleb replies, and sends a message to their halfling friend. “Beau says to keep eyes and ears on the half-elf in all black, youcanreplytothismessage.” He pauses for a moment and says, “She and Jester are on it,” Beau nods, eyes trained on the half-orc.  
He’s certainly good at his job, offering Essek a glass of champagne and smiling shyly. They talk for a much longer time than Essek has let anyone talk to him the whole party. In fact, Essek seems quite charmed by him, and even lets the guy lead him into a little alcove as they chat.

“Veth says he’s asking him about magic,” Caleb murmurs next to her. “He’s calling him Thain, but it sounds like he’s Xhorhasian?”

“What?” Beau hisses, shooting him a glance out of the corner of her eye. Caleb is clutching a glass of something amber and staring at Essek.

“He’s calling the capital Roshona…they’re discussing the war now,” He replies belatedly, relaying Veth’s information. “They’re just talking?”

The half-orc says something that makes Essek flush and glance away. Beau feels a flash of vindication; only the Nein are allowed to charm him so completely. It is quickly turned to dread, however, when Essek gives him a coy look from under his lashes and allows the man to lead him through one of the doors to the courtyard outside. Beau quickly scans the crowd for the tiefling and is slightly more relieved to find him holding court with a group of partygoers. 

“Let’s sit down, you can send Frumpkin with Veth and watch through his eyes,” Beau suggests, and Caleb nods, setting his hand on her forearm.

“Sounds like a plan, Expositor.”  
  
—  
  
Veth is hiding in a bush when he pops Frumpkin onto her back. She jolts slightly, but doesn’t make a sound. Essek-as-Thain and the other man are standing near a water feature.

“If you’ll forgive me, my lord,” the man is saying, “I wanted to ask you about your connection to the Cerberus Assembly,” Even through the leaves of the bush and Frumpkin’s eyes, Caleb can tell he is casting something. Essek smiles at him vaguely.

“I’ve not had much dealings with them,” He objects. “Just as they’ve been on the coast,”

“Oh, I’m not asking Lord Thain,” The man says, gripping Essek’s forearm. “I’m asking the Shadowhand: What of your dealings with Da’leth?”

“Oh.” Says Essek. “I’m…we’re sharing information,” he gives a helpless little shrug. The man smiles genially. 

“That’s lovely, d’anthe, please, I’d love to know more,”

“We just share information on magic, we’re working on a project together,” Essek tells him. 

“Just you and Da’leth? You don’t spend much time with any other members?”

“Yes, usually; I’ve met other members, but Da’leth is my…intermediary, I suppose,”

“Hmm,” the man murmurs, “What about Trent Ikithon, ever met him?”

“Yes, once or twice. I did not like him very much,” Essek confides, “He is…off putting.”

“He is,” the man agrees, and releases his arm. “I’d love to hear all about your meeting with Ikithon, Shadowhand,” Essek nods.

“He is in charge of the Beacons on Empire soil. He and his…students guard them.” Essek grimaces. “He was very interested in me; I did not like the way he looked at me, Jukha,” he confesses.

“Like he wanted to cut you open?” Jukha asks quietly, “Like he wanted to see how the gears turn in that head of yours?”

“Yes,” Essek says on a gasp.

“I think you should get a drink, Thelyss, and then go on home, you’ve had a long day.” Jukha says softly, and gives him a gentle push back towards the party. Essek resists for a moment, then nods.

“Thank you, Jukha, light be with you,”

“And with you,” the man replies warmly. He watches Essek step back into the party and heaves a sigh. He scrubs both hands over his face and muffles a short shout into his palms. “This is going well,” He mutters to himself in a different voice. He sighs again and casts another disguise self. Through Frumpkin’s eyes, Caleb can see him waver slightly and shift back into the human man in military colors. He rolls his shoulders and shifts his posture, then marches back into the party.  
Caleb pulls out of Frumpkin vision, and casts around for Beau. She is sitting to his right with eyes flicking between Essek and the door, where the other man is just striding through, beelining towards his tiefling companion. 

“Beau, this is very serious,” Caleb says urgently, and she cuts him a look. “He must have charmed Essek, he was asking him about the Cerberus Assembly,”

“Fuck,” Beau says with feeling.

“Well put.” Caleb huffs, and sends a message to Jester. “See if you can spy on that purple tiefling, he’s in on it with the conman.”

“Way ahead of you, Cayleb,” Jester replies, just as he catches sight of her on the edges of the group surrounding the other tiefling. To Beau, he says,

“I think his name is Jukha. That’s what Essek was calling him at least.” She nods, eye focused on him.  
  
—  
  
Jester watches as a handsome human guy comes up behind the lavender tiefling. She hasn’t been able to catch their name, but she can tell they’re an experienced grifter. The human sets his hand on their back and leans down to murmur something in their ear. The tiefling smiles slyly and cuts a look back to the group. A couple ladies titter.

“It looks like the Captain’s finished his business,” They say, pouting vaguely at being left alone.

“Captain?” One lady asks, fluttering her eyelashes at the pair. The human smiles politely and dips a courteous bow.

“Lady Demesne, it’s an honor; My name is Captain Oskar Körte, I pilot a vessel in the Empire fleet.” He speaks with a posh, vaguely Zemnian accent. Lady Demesne smiles and hides demurely behind her fan. She offers him a hand, which he takes and kisses her knuckles.

“It’s a pleasure, Captain, your date here has been enchanting company all evening.”

“They are enchanting, aren’t they,” He says, giving the tiefling a soft look. A few of the courtiers sigh. “If you all don’t mind, I’d like to steal dear Satish away for a dance while we still have a chance,” He says it in a sort of aside, and the tiefling smiles shyly.

“Of course,” says lady Demesne as she turns to the tiefling, “Satish, it’s been a pleasure.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, my lady,” says Satish with a curtsy. They take the Captain’s offered arm and throw a graceful wave to the rest of the group. “I’m sure I won’t see you before the night’s out,” They say with a sly wink, and captain Körte chuckles and flushes to the titters and whispers of the courtiers. The pair sweep their way onto the dance floor and launch into a waltz.  
Jester makes her escape and goes to find Essek. As interesting as their plot is, she cares so much more for him and wants to get to the bottom of his actions. She catches him by the drink table and chats to him for a while before Veth spikes his drink and things get out of hand.  
  
—  
  
They’ve danced and dined and charmed the evening away, and Fjord is so ready to leave before they get caught. He grips Molly’s waist a little tighter and gives them a significant look. Molly pouts, no doubt thriving on all the attention and subterfuge, but concedes to be led out of the party. It’s not that Fjord has any issue with pretending; he’s not sure he’s ever done anything but pretend, but there’s still a weight lifted off his chest as they depart.  
Maybe it’s the stakes; usually they’re just scamming for money or magic items or running games for the Gentleman. It’s never been their people on the line, never been his fault that they’re hurting, and they’ve never been without Yasha. She’s left them before, chased storms and fleeting memories, but it’s always been her choice, and it’s always been temporary.  
Yasha’s the one that balances them out; without her, he and Molly just rev each other up and make increasingly impulsive decisions.  
Like crashing the Marquis’ party to interrogate his guests and then chatting up his sister. Fjord cuts Molly a look as that thought occurs to him. They’re sweeping along the street looking for all the world like some spoiled princeling in a flowing golden gown and his coat draped over their shoulders. The glimmering jewelry adorning their horns twinkles and clinks together as they turn their piercing red gaze on him.

“What,” Molly asks, too innocent.

“Did you or did you not proposition Lady Demesne?” Fjord asks on a beleaguered sigh. Molly smirks. “Molly! What would you have done if she’d said yes?”

“Who said she didn’t,” They say coyly. Fjord huffs and mutters something unflattering about their stamina. Molly shows their fangs and says, “It doesn’t matter anyway, the fucking nobles here don’t know shit about sticky Icky and we don’t even know if he’ll be on the boat tomorrow, Captain,”

“Do you want to go to Rexxentrum? Waltz right up to his front fucking door and ask nicely if he’ll stop being a creep for twenty minutes?” Fjord replies, his own lip curling in response, regardless of his own lack of fangs. 

“We’ll talk about this on the boat, I don’t know what the fuck we’re going to do, but we need to figure something out.” They walk in silence until they reach the docks, Fjord flipping a couple gold to the Zhelezo as they exit the city limits. As they approach their dock, Molly asks, “Did hot boi at least have something interesting?”

“They’re ‘sharing information,’ he said,” Fjord replies, distracted searching his pockets.

“What does that mean?” comes the frustrated response. “he has to know more than that,”

“He’s just a scared little boy, Mols. I don’t think he knows much at all”

“We should have just fucking gone with plan A,” Molly huffs. 

“Plan A was a fucking deathtrap! I’m one guy, I’m not that powerful!” Fjord exclaims, giving up. He’ll find the sending stone later; they’ll have to hash this out now. 

“You never used to shy away from a little torture!” Molly says, finally turning on him as Fjord fails to stop himself from growling. “This isn’t important to you?” They stand at odds for a full minute.

“Firstly,” Fjord starts quietly, making Molly scoff and throw their hands up. He says louder, “Firstly, that man can crush a person with his mind. He can flick his little finger and I’m dead! He’s much too powerful for us to take on in combat; I’m lucky I made it out of a conversation with him alive. He’s the shadowhand of the fucking Umavi—”

“I shoulda never let you fuck that blacksmith,” Molly says under their breath, interrupting his rant. He splutters furiously.

“Fuck you, by the light, what did you think was going to happen in that situation—?” Molly makes a small hand motion and he cuts off.  
Someone’s watching them.  
Fjord heaves a sigh and steps forward, directly in front of them, grabs the lapels of the coat still hanging off their shoulders. He leans close, as if to whisper in their ear. 

“Two that I can see, coming from the third building down,” Molly tells him. Fjord says,

“What are we doing? We can’t summon the ship like this,”

“We’ll have to engage, I think,” Molly gives him a kiss on the cheek, and he moves away a bit.

“I think I’ve overreacted a bit, gem,” He says, back at a normal volume. The slash of Molly’s mouth softens a bit. They move as if to slip their arms into his coat.

“I think you’re forgiven, little river, but we ought to get back at some point.” They give him a nod, and the pair whirl, drawing steel on their assailants as they press their backs together.

In front of Fjord is a human woman dressed nicely in a blue suit. She drops into a defensive pose even as he turns, holding a glinting dagger. Molly is facing off with a halfling woman in a yellow dress. All four of them freeze.

“Who the fuck are you?” Fjord asks the woman softly. She grimaces.

“Who the fuck are you?” A brilliant parry, of course. Fjord gives her a look. 

“I’m not in the mood, friend; who are you?”

“…my name’s Tracy,” She grits out. Molly fails to stifle a giggle. “What? Fuck you,”

“Fuck me, indeed, Trace,” Molly says, “And what about your halfling friend here?”

“Jeff!” the halfling stutters out.  
A pause.

“Tracy and… Jeff, do you wanna tell us what made you think you could come see the show? Never heard a domestic before?” Molly asks grandly.

“I mean, you were being fucking loud,” Tracy says, eye never leaving Fjord’s weapon. She is damningly unarmed, doesn’t look like a caster, and Fjord really doesn’t want to fight a monk. He taps Molly’s thigh, much to their displeasure. The pair of them lower their weapons. “We just wanted to come ask you to tone it down.”  
Fjord rolls his eyes and takes a step to the side and turns in one coordinated movement with Molly. There’s no one at his back now, but he can see both of the others better. Fjord sheathes his dagger, letting Molly keep the intimidation factor for themself. The halfling is holding a crossbow that Fjord doesn’t want to know how she hid in her dress and is baring her teeth in a way he’s never seen a human, elf, or halfling do. It freaks him out a bit, if he’s being honest.

“I’m tired of lies today,” Molly announces. “tell us why you were following us.”

“I already fucking told you—” the woman starts, but another voice cuts her off. 

“Why are you looking into Ikithon?” To the west, further from their dock, stands a human man, also in formal wear. He is of a height between Fjord and Molly and has shiny strawberry brown hair swept back from his face. Fjord tries to assess his skill set and feels his stomach sink to his feet.

“Caster,” He murmurs to Molly, who nods. “What do you know about him?” he calls back.

“I know he is a bad man,” the man says, coming closer. He speaks with a Zemnian accent. “Powerful, too. A bad enemy to have.”

“That’s not new information, friend,” says Fjord. He spreads his empty hands, supplicant. “If you know anything else about him, we’d be willing to pay for your time.” Molly is immediately furious. The man walks up to Tracy and sets his hand on her shoulder.

“My name is Caleb. I would share information, if you would join us at our pub,” he gestures towards the grey stucco building a little bit behind them. Fjord considers him a moment.

“Fuck it,” Fjord says, and offers a hand. Caleb shakes it cautiously. “I’m Fjord. We’ll not join you there, but you may join us on our ship.” He leans over to Molly and reaches into the breast pocket of his coat to pull out the sending stone. He squeezes it and says, “If you’d bring the ship around, please, we’re to have company.”

“Aye aye, Cap’n! Bringing her in!” rings from it after a moment. He grins at the pair of humans and tucks the stone back away.  
Behind them at the empty dock, there is the sound of disturbed water, and then splashing. The Mythtake is a cursed pirate ship they found on a mission for the Gentleman six months ago, and he’s never been as excited to unveil her.  
He acts like Molly is the only one with a flair for the dramatic, but, well, he’s still a people pleaser at heart, and if these folks expect a pirate and a grifter, he’ll give them one. Molly looses a laugh and sheaths their swords. 

“Trusting random humans always works out for us,” they declare incredulously. “Bring all your friends onto our magic boat, pretty boy; I’m Molly,” they saunter across to the dock, where the crow’s nest is just breaching the surface of the water, and leap several feet across the water to land on the railing. They settle in to wait for the ship to fully breach, and with a smirk, say, “You’re in for a treat.”

The Mythtake rises with no small amount of spectacle. The ice-cold nature of a ghost ship mixing with the warm waters of Nicodranas causes fog to sweep around the boat and the sound of her decks groaning with the loss of the water’s weight is echoing and ominous. The adventurers stare with apprehension and awe, much to Fjord’s satisfaction. Two more of their group make their way to the east side of the docks, a pretty blue tiefling, and a tall firbolg with pale pink hair and a wary expression.  
  
—  
  
Caleb doesn’t know what to make of the pair of grifters. They’re simultaneously experienced and incompetent. They’re both beautiful and handsome in equal measures, and they both seem kind of lost. He’ll have to see what Caduceus thinks of them, but he doesn’t think they’ll end up turning on the Nein just yet. The haunted ship is…strange, and certainly puts Caduceus on edge, but the boatswain, a skeleton man named Keel, is chatty and amiable as he leads them belowdecks to the galley for tea.  
Molly already went down, but Fjord is chatting with the navigator and waves them away when Keel whistles for his attention.

“Ah, Cap’n Stone is always a little grumpy after a row with Mr. Tealeaf,” Keel confides to Jester, who is seemingly delighted by him and the whole boat. 

“Is he a good captain?” She asks. 

“He’s alive,” says Keel, “And since we’re all cursed to man this here ship forever, if we don’t like a captain, we’s all just mutiny and kill ‘em.” 

“If he made any error grave enough to offend you all, Keel-y darling, I’m sure he’d deserve to be strung up by his toes,” says Molly, appearing in the doorway of the galley. Keel laughs, a terrible rattling sound that make Caduceus twitch. 

“We’d let you have the first swing, Mr. Tealeaf,” Molly smiles indulgently, like they’re talking to an excitable child.

“You wouldn’t have the chance, dearheart. I have a few different blends, my friends, if you’d like to pick your poison,” this last they direct to the Nein, and beckon them into a surprisingly roomy galley. They have a few jars of tea set out on the counter, and Caduceus beelines over to them. “Fjord has a secret supplier up north he refuses to tell me about. Anyway, I don’t think I got everyone’s name; please sit and tell me all about your little group.” Molly takes a seat at the head of the table, lounging across it like a lavish chaise and not a rough-hewn chair beset with barnacles.  
Most of the surfaces that wouldn’t be in constant use have some kind of barnacle or limpet hanging on and there’s even a pot in the corner with a riot of kelp hanging limp over the sides. It seems as if all efforts have been made to make the place habitable and still keep to the aesthetic of ‘haunted pirate ship.’  
Molly apparently took the chance to change out of their gown while Caleb, Beau and Veth were waiting for the rest of their party. They’re now wearing what can only be described as a pirate costume, complete with an eyepatch slung uselessly across their forehead. Jester, trusting Caduceus to choose a good tea for her, skips over and takes the seat to Molly’s right. 

“I’m Jester! That’s Caleb, Beau, Veth, and Caduceus. We’re very dangerous and stuff so I wouldn’t recommend trying to kill us.” She points to each member in turn and blesses Molly with her winning smile the whole time. They seem positively delighted. 

“Jester, please stay here forever,” they implore. Jester laughs.

“That is, eh, a bit of an ominous offer on this ship, is it not?” says Caleb from his spot across the table.

“Oh, I suppose, but we didn’t curse them, and frankly, none of us know much about magic; certainly not enough to un-curse a whole crew or even add another to their ranks.” Molly explains. Caduceus says,

“Who do you know at the Blooming Grove?” There is a significant pause as Molly turns an inquisitive look upon him. Caduceus holds up a jar of tea. “This is the Douglass family,”

“What?”

“I am from a small temple in the Savalirwood called the Blooming Grove. We run a graveyard, and many of the interred grow tea. They like to be useful, I think, a lot of people grow herbs or medicinal flowers.”

“This is dead people tea?” Molly, if possible, looks even more delighted. Their eyes track over the group and land on the doorway, where Fjord has appeared. He looks amused. 

“You didn’t even figure it out yourself, Molly-mine,” He says with a crooked little smile. Molly laughs and claps his hands. Fjord turns to Caduceus and offers a hand. “A Clay, I presume? It’s lovely to meet you.”

“And you,” says Caduceus. Caleb has never seen him so wrong footed; if he didn’t know better, he’d almost say that Caduceus were blushing. “I’m Caduceus Clay. You get your tea from the Blooming Grove? I’ve never seen you before,” When Caduceus goes in for a handshake, the orcish man turns Caduceus’ hand and kisses his knuckles. Caduceus lets loose a tiny laugh.

“I’ve never been, unfortunately. I encountered your adorable sister and your brother on my travels, and Clarabelle made me the most amazing cup of tea. I bought as much of it they were wiling to part with, but this is the last, I’m afraid.” Caleb watches with something like awe as this man who was holding his friends at blade point not even an hour ago effortlessly charms one of the most perceptive people he’s ever met. He meets Beau’s eye to share a significant look.

“This is great,” She starts, loudly. Caduceus jolts slightly and blushes furiously. Fjord just gives her a little nod and smile and turns to prepare his own cup of tea. “But I thought it was information time, not teatime!” Fjord hums a little as he turns to find a seat. He takes the chair Molly was occupying, and they make themself comfortable lounging across his lap. Molly gives Caduceus an inviting smile and pushes out the chair to their left with their foot.

“Did you want something a little stronger, Beau?” Asks Fjord, “I can have Keel bring a bottle; I just thought, it’s late and all.”

“A nice cuppa before bed,” agrees Molly.

“Tea’s fine,” Beau grumbles, making Fjord frown. He unwinds a bit of copper wire from around his finger and speaks into it. 

“Would you mind bringing a bottle of whiskey to the galley, please?” He pauses to listen to the response, then smiles at Beau. “I never let it be said that I’m a bad host, Beau, please don’t hesitate to ask for anything we may be able to give you,” Keel clatters his way in a moment later, holding a heavy bottle mostly full of amber liquor. 

“This do, Cap’n?” He asks, and Fjord laughs. 

“Nothing but the best,” he says, and waves a hand to Beau. Keel plops the bottle down in front of her and heads to the cupboard to take out a few glasses. “Thank you, Keel,” says Fjord as the skeleton man leaves. Beau makes no move to take the bottle. There is a pause before Molly rolls their eyes.

“We’re not going to poison you, love,” They sigh, “We want information; take a load off!” Beau squints before grabbing the bottle and taking a long swig directly from the mouth of it. Molly and Fjord both give a cheer when she finally slams it back down, a significant portion drained.

“That’s fucking high quality shit,” Beau chokes out, gesturing Caleb and Veth to have some. Caleb, with a sigh, pours out three glasses. Before he takes a sip, he says,

“If you’d like to get to brass tacks?” 

“Right, so.” Starts Molly, “Me and Fjord and another friend of ours all met at the circus. We’d been traveling with them for a while when another member, er, went a bit funny. The long and short of it is that we ended up having to kill him, and the three of us decided to break out on our own. We ended up in Rexxentrum on a job and ran into Ikithon at some enchanter’s shop. He was…very interested in our friend. All of us, I think, actually, but mostly our friend. We—she—” they stop, apparently overcome with emotion.

“It’s my fault,” Fjord says quietly, “I wanted to know more about. A power. I have. We ended up convincing our way into a library. He took her, is the short of it. We’re going to get her back and we’re going to kill him.” 

There is a resounding silence that contends with the ringing in Caleb’s ears. 

“What makes you think you can kill him?” Beau asks derisively. Fjord makes a considering face and waves a hand.

“Or die trying,” he amends.

“We’re not going to leave her there.” Says Molly, sitting straighter on Fjord’s lap. “She’s the best of us, and right now, we don’t even know if she’s alive. We both are living on borrowed time already; if there’s a sliver of a chance, we’re going to take it to try and save her.”

“You don’t know if she’s alive?” asks Jester with liquid eyes. Fjord closes his eyes and sets his forehead on Molly’s back. Caleb is suddenly gripped with gratefulness that they’ve never lost any members of the Nein for longer than it takes to cast revivify. He doesn’t know if he would be able to stand the grief these two carry.

“Why don’t you send her a message?” asks Veth. Molly shakes their head and Fjord scoffs.

“They only work from a certain distance.”

“I can send a message to anyone, anywhere, if I know them well enough,” Jester volunteers, grabbing Molly’s free hand. “If either of you can show me what she looks like…?” Molly nods furiously, grasping her hand in both of theirs. Fjord huffs a short laugh and mutters something into his companion’s back that makes them pinch his leg and Caduceus frown. The half-orc sits up.

“I’ll show you what she looks like; do you need any other information?” Jester thinks for a second.

“Well, at the party, you were talking with a different accent, right? If you could sound like her, that might help, and uh, I’ll need her name. Any information that’s really important to know about her will help.”

“Her name is Yasha,” says Fjord. He nudges Molly off his lap and stands up. He makes a little motion in front of his face and wavers into a hulking woman with mis-matched eyes and a complicated series braids and locs set through her hair. He effects a straight-backed stance and serious countenance. In a soft, lilting voice he says, “will this do.” 

In their travels, the Nein have met spies and liars and the like. They have pretended to be diplomats and guards, played all sorts of roles. This is a different sort.  
If Caleb hadn’t watched him transform, he’d have no reason to believe that this was anyone but who she presented as. It’s convincing to the point that Caleb suddenly wonders whether anything from Fjord’s lips tonight has been sincere. Molly stares at Fjord for a long time, the Nein shuffling a bit awkwardly at the bald grief on their face. They nod sharply, and look at Jester, who nods back, a distraught look on her face.

“I think that’s good, Fjord, thank you,” she says quietly. Fjord immediately drops the disguise and flees the room. Jester turns back to Molly, who takes a deep breath and says,

“I’ll tell you more about her if you need, but if not, let’s please do this.”

“Of course. I think I can do it,” Jester replies, and closes her eyes. She clutches her Traveler symbol and says, “Hello. I’m with Molly and Fjord. They are worried about you. Tell us if you are okay. Cough once for yes, twice for no.” There is a long pause as she listens. She opens her eyes and grabs Molly’s hand again. “She’s alive, she sounded tired and hurt, but she’s alive.” Molly lets out a sob and clutches her hand to their forehead.

“Thank you. So much. If you need a place to stay tonight, we have guest quarters, Keel can show you. I have to—” They squeeze Jester’s hand before letting go and dashing through the door after Fjord. 

The Nein sit in silence for a few minutes, processing the long night and influx of new information.

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently, all I write is "Fjord is not part of the M9 originally bc this..." he's just my favorite and my brain will not free me from this premise. c'est la vie. 
> 
> anyway, Fjord is multi-classed with bard here bc I think that the Molly, Yasha, Fjord group would do a lot more subterfuge-y stuff, and I had them taking a lot more work from the Gentleman than the M9 did in canon. There have been a lot of near misses with the trio and the M9 in this universe I guess.  
> There's a bit of molly/fjord/caddy vibes bc if I'm being honest the first iteration of this au was a thinly veiled lead-up to a threesome which I did not write bc I am painfully ace and got embarrassed.


End file.
